


Again.

by fairytalehearts



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalehearts/pseuds/fairytalehearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has a breakdown in the aftermath of 5x04. Contains Major Spoilers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Again.

**Author's Note:**

> I never saw it coming.

There was no alcohol.

There was no loud music.

There was no Etta. And there never would be again.. The only small comfort he had was that they wouldn't be analyzing her brain for information. If he believed in God this would be a good time to pray but again, he only relied on himself and again that had failed him.

All he had was the dirty spot on the wall. He had made a joke that it looked like France and Etta turned to him and asked what France was. She had always been curious but again he just shrugged it off and promised that he would explain later. Now he couldn’t move or cope or do anything but stare at the wall. There were no tears left; Olivia was crying enough for the both of them. Doing this again, again, again was breaking him.

His mother died and then Olivia died and then he lost his son, then Olivia again and then Etta- Again. Again. Again. She was gone and he didn’t tell her anything, didn’t let her in. He wanted to talk about his mother and how family can change and relationships and how Olivia made him want to be a better man- Love he wanted to talk about love. It wasn't just a feeling it was a state of mind, a perspective, things were so much better when he felt loved and no matter how many times he got into that stupid machine his reaction to not having it is the same.

He had nothing but himself. For all of those years again, again, again when he kept himself alive using his wits and his wits didn’t do anything to save his daughter or protect his mother or- anything that was remotely useful. 

If he would have just accepted Walter. Accepted his mother. He would have gone to Harvard and MIT and been able to figure out what Walter was doing in the tapes. Hell, maybe there would be no Observer invasion or Fringe Division- if he could have just thought with his brain instead of his ego. The other Peter Bishop, wouldn't needed to manipulate the situation, wouldn't constantly be looking for an exit. Maybe he would teach biochemistry at Yale.  Maybe he’d be an astronaut with NASA while Olivia worked at the field office in Jacksonville and their kids Henry and Elizabeth would be in middle school. His brain, the one thing he had was failing him and now he was alone in some stranger’s old house staring at France.

Did his life really have to turn out like this? Again. Again. Again. He could have a million tries and there’d still be something, anything to keep him from what he wanted.  Facing Olivia when she was crying was probably the worst thing he could imagine, he couldn’t do it again.

The door creaks open behind him and she sits on the moldy floor next to him. He can’t look at her again. He sees Etta and missed dance recitals and the relationship he never had with Walter. Walking her down the aisle at her wedding. The same things he thinks again, again, again. It's like a horror movie but there's no Damiano's, no pause button. Wanting, that was his demise. He wanted the woman he loved and then he wanted the baby he loved and then again he wanted them all to be alive but that was too much to ask for.

Her head leans against his shoulder, and his arm moves to hold her, even though he’s sure he’s not capable of being comforting.

“Peter. You’re doing it again.”

Frowning, he looks down to his hand which had started rubbing her back. In circles.

He can’t make himself say he’s sorry. Even though he feels it.

“In a few hours when the sleep deprivation has kicked in you’re going to get very angry. At Walter. At me. At the Observers. And I want you to know that even though you’ll be at your lowest, I want you to take it out on me. Because we can survive this Peter. We won’t be the same but we will survive. But if you go off again, to that dark place you go to- the one where you don’t talk to me or anyone- the dark place that let Walter think it was okay to cross universes or the one that let Walternate think that shapeshifters were a good idea. You can’t go there again, Peter.”

Part of him wonders what she means by ‘again’.  Killing shape shifters, before he went to the other universe or his plans to find Etta. It could be any of the above- he seemed to make the same mistakes again, again and again.  Her hand is grabbing his thigh, and he hadn’t realized it at first but her nails were digging in and he didn’t even feel it.

“I can’t keep it together when you’re not here, Peter. And that’s selfish, and wrong, but I need you. You’re the only one who can watch my back, and you’re the only thing left I have in this world.  I won’t lose you. I won’t. Not again. I can’t do this without you. So please, I’m asking you-”

He kisses her. He can’t talk about his broken heart or his broken brain. They haven’t really kissed in three months before the amber, but he kisses her because he loves her and if they took his daughter from them he sure as hell wasn’t about to lose his wife too. Maybe the anger was coming but it's what got him out of his funk, out from whatever was weighing him down. It fueled him. 

“Every time I fix things, something bad happens. If I pick you, a child dies and if I pick both the world dies. I'm done playing by those rules.”

He wasn’t going anywhere because they needed to pay for what they did. _Again and again and again if they had to._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to make sense, fyi.


End file.
